


A lot of vulnerability

by JustSuperMione



Series: R/Hr canon missing moments [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, F/M, Missing Scene, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 20:14:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6438634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSuperMione/pseuds/JustSuperMione
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The relationship theory I’ve always worked with for Ron and Hermione is: each book marks a change in their relationship. The first proper turning point is in CoS. Ron starts to realise what an important part of his life Hermione when she gets petrified. </p><p>Missing moments from CoS... </p><p>The monster had struck again and they were in the hospital wing. Well, it couldn’t be Hermione because she was safe. Hermione was safe. Hermione was studying in the library... probably muttering to herself as she poured over books. Hermione was safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A lot of vulnerability

**Author's Note:**

> The One Where Ron kisses Hermione for the first time: Sleeping Beauty style...
> 
> Some words taken from CoS. All belong to JKR.

_It’s a brilliant day for Quidditch_ , thought the thirteen year old as he sat up in bed: Gryffindor Vs Hufflepuff. Gryffindor would win, couldn’t lose because Harry, his best-mate was playing Seeker. Ron was happy. Nothing could stop them, nothing could go wrong. Not even the mystery of Riddle’s missing diary could stop them – he thought ruefully.

Ron had a mostly quiet breakfast with his best-friend Harry and with Hermione... Well, it wasn’t completely quiet as Hermione kept on urging Harry to report the theft of Riddles diary: she was a bit of a nag. He sometimes wished she wouldn’t nag so much but it was kind of background noise now. Hermione was just this unstoppable nagging force. Like the wind or the Whomping Willow. Except when she’d been a cat: she was a brilliant cat! He could go and see her whenever he wanted, and he’d tease her but she’d not fight back too much because it would slow down her progress.

He visited when Harry was at Quidditch practice and she’d nag him about his homework, and he shared his History of Magic notes with her because they weren’t very good and she enjoyed correcting them. He’d ask about the Muggle world and she’d fire questions at him in return. She admitted that she was surprised he didn’t know more spells from watching his mum and dad; and he explained that his parents were always doing them wordlessly so how could he? This made Hermione smile. And Ron had to admit: he liked Hermione’s smile – it was unique in a bucked tooth-kind of way.

After breakfast, Ron was attempting to amuse Harry and make Hermione laugh (so that she didn’t nag)... When the strange thing happened; they were heading upstairs to get Harry’s Quidditch things... Ron was telling them a particularly funny story about Percy talking to a tree. Hermione was trying not to giggle when Harry yelled.

“WHAT’S THAT!” he was frantically looking around making him and Hermione jump. “The voice! I just heard it again – didn’t you?” Ron couldn’t hear anything...The stairs was quiet apart from the crowd moving in the Great Hall and the gentle hissing of the ancient plumbing.

Ron shook his head and looked over towards Hermione seeking conformation. Her featured had lightened, she had that brilliant figuring-something-out-look. To empathise this point; she clapped her forehead with her hand. Ron thought that was very a dramatic thing to do; but also very Hermione.

"Harry - I think I've just understood something!”  She said almost breathlessly. There was a gleam in her eye that Ron thought was both manic and kind of... _pretty_. “I've got to go to the library!" Then she turned her hair bouncing as she ran up the stairs. Ron watched her go: amused at how happy she was. He then turned to Harry, who was still looking both disturbed and preoccupied having heard the voice again.

 

"What does she understand?" said Harry, looking around, trying to tell where the voice had come from.

 

"Loads more than I do," said Ron wistfully, slowly shaking his head. Fleetingly, he thought he should follow her. There was a monster on the loose after all... but then he figured that she would be safe in the library. She was unstoppable when she got that look. He would only get in her way. And it was such a nice day outside.

 

"But why's she got to go to the library?" Harry asked, looking flummoxed. Ron didn’t share Harry’s confusion: so he merrily elaborated.

 

"Because that's what Hermione _does_ ," said Ron, shrugging. "When in doubt, go to the library." He gave a small smile, remembering when she was looking for information on the Chamber of Secrets; then Hermione had had to use more than books for the information. But she had gotten it; and now felt the beginnings of excitement.

 

 _By the end of the day_ , Ron thought happily, _we’ll have the answer and she’ll look kind of smug. Of course we’ll have to place chess to wipe that expression off her face, but that’s okay, and Harry will be happy too. What with having the answer and having played Quidditch..._

Ron then, noticed the stream of people now leaving the Great Hall and realised it was time they weren’t there.

 

"You'd better get moving," said Ron. "It's nearly eleven - the match -"

 

Half an hour later, the crowd was cheering as the teams entered the pitch. Ron watched Oliver Wood warming up around the goal post. Not for the first time, Ron imagined himself as the Gryffindor keeper – wearing shoulder pads that made him look much older, he’d patrol the area in front of the hoops and the crowd would cheer for him... And his brothers wouldn’t be mean to him and Hermione would cheer and woop whenever he saved a goal. Oliver would be leaving at the end of next year so he could try out in his fourth year. Being on the team would be _brilliant_. He’d only have to deal with the twins for two years on the team, then he and Harry would be in charge.

 

It would mean that he would be sacrificing his and Hermione, Harry-less time... but _that_ would be alright... it wasn’t like he looked forward to it _too_ much. It was nice though... quiet. Sometimes they’d play chess. Then, her air of confidence, that could be _so_ irritating, would fall away and she’d bite her lip. She always bit her lip when she was feeling unable to do something... he shook his head not wanting to think about her now.

 

Ron refocused on the pitch. Something was wrong. McGonagall was striding purposely forward: carrying a megaphone. Ron’s heart sank. He looked over towards Hermione, but she wasn’t there. Hermione was safe in the library. And somehow Ron knew he had to get down there... had to get to McGonagall and Harry.

 

"This match has been cancelled," Professor McGonagall voice came magnified as he reached the stairs and started to scrambling down. At that moment, he’d never been so happy that he had long legs, as he sped down stairs, two and three at a time. The murmur of disbelief started to get louder and Ron heard Oliver shouting...

 

"But, Professor!" he bellowed, looking furious. "We've got to play - the cup Gryffindor -" he looked rather red faced and, if Ron wasn’t so panicked, he’d have been impressed that Wood had shouted at McGonagall like that. If he didn’t have the feeling of utter dread, he’d have been surprised that McGonagall continued without giving Wood detention.

 

"All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

 

Ron had to start battling to get through the loud unhappy crowd now. McGonagall was talking to Harry. Harry’s face looked worried, like he’d done something wrong and Ron momentarily worried that maybe McGonagall had found out about Hermione’s Polyjuice potion... but that didn’t make sense... because even an angry McGonagall wouldn’t have interrupted Quidditch because she was upset with Harry, Hermione and him.

 

When Ron finally escaped the crowd, he ran towards them. He looked worried but he didn’t care. McGonagall set off towards the castle and his dread increased as she didn’t object. Instead she said:

"Yes, perhaps you'd better come, too, Weasley...” she didn’t say anymore. The way McGonagall had said his name, looking almost emotional... caused bile to burn his throat.

 _The monsters struck again_ , he thought numbly. _McGonagall just wants to find out what we know._

Ron wanted to tell her that Hermione was safe in the library and that she’d figured something out but he knew that could wait until they reached her office. His heart clench when they turned towards the Hospital Wing... Ron knew the way from anywhere in the castle because of Hermione’s weeks of being a cat. The monster had struck again and they were in the hospital wing.

Well, it couldn’t be Hermione because she was safe. Hermione was safe. Hermione was studying in the library... probably muttering to herself as she poured over books. Hermione was safe.

And it couldn’t be Ginny because everyone knew that Ginny was a Weasley and all Weasley’s are purebloods: unless the monster had decided to go after blood traitors. In that case, Weasley’s were easy to pickoff. He was pretty sure their whole family were classed as blood traitors: especially his dad. But his dad was at work, probably playing with plugs or some such muggle thing. There was no way the monster would strike him in the heart in Ministry of Magic.

As they walked, there were two competing voices in Ron’s head... There was the pestering voice that tried to say McGonagall was taking them see Her... but then this other voice reassured him that she was safe in the library. None of them spoke and as they approached the door: Ron knew he didn’t want to see what was behind that door. He felt sick and perhaps slightly woozy: as if all the blood had been taken away.

"This will be a bit of a shock," said Professor McGonagall in a gentle voice as they drew near the infirmary. "There has been another attack ... another _double_ attack." Ron couldn’t breathe... his stomach was now too full of dread that spread and constricted his heart. Last time the monster had attacked a muggleborn had died. _Oh Merlin, no!_ It seemed all too slowly, McGonagall pushed open the door. Madam Pomfrey was bent over one bed... but on the other...

 

“Hermione!” He heard himself groan. She wasn’t in the library. She wasn’t safe. She wasn’t dead but _petrified_.

 

Hermione was _petrified_!

 

Her hair was sprayed out around her like a golden brown halo. Her mouth was slightly open in surprise and her skin looked waxy. There was no knowledgeable glint in her eyes: they were glassy. She looked so small... and vulnerable: he’d never thought of her like that before. She’d giggled at his hatred of spiders, she’d fussed over him when he was burping up slugs and convinced them to take the Polyjuice potion in the first place. She’d always been, loud and bossy and, since the troll, his friend.

 

 _Oh Merlin, I should have followed her!_ He thought grimly wanting to be sick.

 

"They were found near the library," said Professor McGonagall gently. Ron gave a fleeting glance towards the other girl. It was the curly haired Ravenclaw Prefect that Percy fancied. McGonagall kept talking. "I don't suppose either of you can explain this? It was on the floor next to them...”

 

McGonagall held out a small circular mirror. It didn’t seem to be Hermione’s. Hermione wasn’t bothered by her looks or any of that girly rubbish... she was just Hermione. His friend. His friend that he’d failed. His heart sank. Mechanically, Ron shook his head. His eyes transfixed on Hermione.

 

 _She looks like Sleeping Beauty,_ he thought fleetingly, remembering the muggle story he’d read over the summer.

 

"I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower," said Professor McGonagall seriously. "I need to address the students in any case.” And with that she started to walk away. Harry followed. Ron didn’t want to go: he wanted to stay and protect her but it was too late for that. Sadly, he turned away too. Silently, they returned to the tower.  Somehow, the students seemed to know what had happened. Harry explained that it was Hermione and the prefect that had been petrified.

 

Ron let Harry talk. He couldn’t find the words. He wasn’t in the mood. There was food in the corner, but he didn’t feel like eating. Neville tried to talk to him, ask him if he was okay but how could be okay? The anger he felt was too entangled in shock to rear up: so he just looked at Neville blankly.

 

 _Oh Merlin,_ he thought miserably, sinking into a chair, _it’s not fair that she was lying there._ And he knew that he should have been stronger, smarter, more prepared to save her from the evil that had happened. He didn’t know what he could have done, he was only a second year and his wand barely worked but he knew should have done _something_.

 

If Hermione was here... she’d think. She’d think and study until she found the right answer because Hermione always needed to know. His heart clenched. She had said she finally understood something: but what? He tried to recall every detail of the last time he saw her. She was so alive... and pretty. Her eyes shone because she’d realised something important. But he had no idea what that was.

 

A little later, McGonagall came back and explained about the new security measures. Ron tried to concentrate on what was going on around him. Lee was talking about only Slytherins seemed safe, Percy looked as ill as Ron felt... the twins thought that it was because she was a prefect: but Ron knew that Percy fancied her. (Somehow, he didn’t want to mention that to anyone.) He glanced over at Harry who looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. He was unhappy and Ron realised that it wasn’t just that Hermione was hurt – but that if they school was closed Harry’d have to return to the _‘horrid’_ muggles.

 

He sighed again, miserably. His heart restricted again. ‘ _Horrid’_ muggles was what Hermione called them.  Suddenly, he missed her. She might have been a know-it-all but she was _his_ know-it-all... his and Harry’s. She was always so focused on solving problems and doing her best...

 

And whenever Harry had a problem, Ron could talk to Hermione and they’d figure out how to help him together. Now he was on his own.

 

He decided that the best thing to do was to go up to Harry and get him thinking about the problem.

 

"What're we going to do?" said Ron quietly. Ron was sure that Hermione had the answer but seeing as they couldn’t talk to her... the only person that knew anything about the monster was Hagrid. "D'you think they suspect Hagrid?"

 

That’s how the plan got started. It was a plan that Hermione would be very unhappy with. Ron didn’t want to think about what Hermione would think. He just knew that he had to keep him and Harry moving. Also, Ron decided, Harry could never know how upset he was that Hermione wasn’t here.

* * *

 

** One week after Petrifaction  **

Ron couldn’t sleep. Hagrid was gone. Dumbledore was gone. And what was worst? It was quiet. It was always too quiet now. He’d tried to think of her alive and answering questions: but he couldn’t. The reason, it was always too quiet now. Every time he closed his eyes he saw a honey brown halo of hair, glassy eyes and waxy skin. He wondered if he looked as bad after the chess match last year when she... Then, it happened: Ron had a marvellous idea. It was a barmy idea... and if it worked he didn’t know how he’d explain it to everyone but it was worth a try.

Nearly a year ago, Hermione had explained to Harry that it took “some time” to wake Ron up after the Queen had knocked him out. Ron remembered, as he was coming too, Hermione had been panicking and muttering to herself. She said something about them living in a magical castle, _Sleeping Beauty_ and then she’d kissed him.

Kissed him on the lips! Her lips had been soft and squishy, but in a good way. He’d been so shocked and embarrassed that he’d pretended to be unconscious a little while longer: dazed and not wanting her to stop. All too soon she’d taken her lips away and he’d pretended to wake up. She’d been so relieved that she’d given him a hug before explaining about Harry walking through the fire. Ron had stood quickly up, grabbed her by the hand and they’d run for the brooms. Hermione insisted on sharing his as they’d flown up through the trap door: Hermione shooting the necessary spells. They didn’t stop. They didn’t think until they’d met the headmaster in the Entrance Hall.

Then, they’d _never_ mentioned the kiss afterwards. However, during the summer holidays, he’d read _Sleeping Beauty_ and it was mental. This Princess pricked her finger on something then fallen asleep for a hundred years until the Prince had kissed her. It had been totally mental. He had tried to picture how it could work but the _Sleeping Beauty_ kept looking like Hermione and then the prince looked like him. Then, he would... kiss her and she’d wake up.

Ron bit his lip as he looked over towards Harry. If he woke Harry up and told him this mad idea of his... well... Harry would offer to kiss Hermione. Ron wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of himself kissing Hermione but he knew he definitely didn’t like the idea of Harry kissing her.

He figured that he owed Hermione this. He hadn’t protected her during the day. This was something he could do. And even Madam Pomfrey had to sleep. He could go tonight and check on her. He would try the _Sleeping Beauty_ method...

That’s why Ron snuck to Harry’s trunk and extracted his Invisibility cloak. As he stepped out of his dorm he felt a surge of happiness. He would see Hermione again. Perhaps speak to her. Even thinking about it made him feel better. You see, Ron Weasley had had a miserable week without Hermione. It wasn’t that he missed her helping him with his homework or that he missed her nagging and being bossy. It was that... as well... it was just Ron Weasley found Hermione Granger interesting. Not that Harry wasn’t of course it’s just... he missed bickering with her. He missed her nearly hitting him when she quickly raised her hand. He even missed her hair getting everywhere!

The first night of the _Sleeping Beauty Method_ , his Gryffindor courage lasted long enough to, dodge the patrols, get to the hospital wing and nap outside for a few hours. Then, feeling frozen and sore, he snuck back, vowing to return... The next day, was horrible sitting around class and no Hermione. Knowing that there was something he could do to stop it. Every now and then he’d forget that she’d been petrified and turn to her to tell her something. This especially happened when he kept spotting spiders scurrying outside.

The next few nights, he dodged the patrols and found the hospital wings doors locked. He was happy Hermione was protected but downhearted that he couldn’t see her. _If only my wand worked_ , he kept thinking. For one crazy moment, he wondered where Hermione’s wand was and whether he should use that. But that was crazy – they were barely friends and certainly not married or magically betrothed. Couples used each other’s wands in emergencies... something about the wand recognising the need and temporary allegiances.

His nightly journey became more of a hopeless pilgrimage, until one night; he fell asleep in front of the door, whilst using the invisibility cloak as a pillow...

“Mr Weasley,” Madam Pomfrey swooping down to check his temperature, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, per say,” Ron admitted sleepy, feeling foolish. As the matron drew back and stared at him. “I’ve been having these _nightmares_...”

“I could give you a sleepless draft,” the matron suggested helpfully. Normally, she wouldn’t have put up with a student out of bounds like this but this little Weasley remind her of his brother’s. It was impossible to be angry with any of them because they were all so good natured.

“No thank you,” Ron said, politely, standing up and looking miserable. “I’d just _really_ like to see Hermione.” There was a heart stopping moment in which he thought she’d laugh. Then he added: “You don’t realise this is hardest on the friends of those who have been petrified.” he gave a miserable sniff not wanting to look at the older woman. Which was a great shame; because he missed Poppy Pomfrey’s eyes softening.

“Alright Mr Weasley,” Madam Pomfrey said with a patient smile. ‘It is my medial opinion that there is no point talking to a petrified person... However, you may visit Miss Granger, _tonight_. But if I catch you here again, or if you tell anyone, _I_ will put you in detention..!”

“Can you do that?” Ron asked thoughtlessly, regretting it the moment it was said.

“Try me?” Madam Pomfrey replied, sternly, although amused that a Gryffindor would question her threat.

“Sorry,” Ron said, sorrowfully. “I’ll go...” And he turned away.

“Go?” the matron said surprised. “I thought you wanted to see Miss Granger.”

“Oh I do,” he said excitedly then he looked embarrassed and cleared his throat. “I just was disrespectful and I thought...”

“You may see her,” she said, warmed by his manners and suddenly rosy ears. Without another word, Madam Pomfrey opened the infirmary door. Slowly, Ron followed. His breath caught. She was waxy and still. Her skin looked unearthly in the moonlight. She was frozen in that same position and suddenly he didn’t want to look at her anymore.

He wanted to remember her as this unstoppable person whom he was friends with. Whom he shared adventures with but she wasn’t now... She was here: petrified.

“I’ll give you some time alone,” Madam Pomfrey said moving away and returning to her office.

Ron looked at Hermione. When he was sure that Pomfrey wasn’t watching he went and sat on her bed.

“When in doubt go to the library…” he said in a hollow voice that surprised him. Fearlessly, he touched her hand. She was cold. He didn’t like it, but he continued anyway. “I should have come too… I’m a pureblood it wouldn’t have gotten me… I should have kept you safe!!!”

“Because you might not realise this,” he whispered looking at her hand. “But I know your secret Hermione.” He started move his thumb back and forth, enjoying the smoothness of her skin. “You try so hard because you’re scared that Harry and I won’t like you if you don’t know the answers. That’s why you said that being expelled was worst than being killed...” Then, he looked at her. “Because if you were expelled and weren’t a witch anymore you’d be all alone again. But we would like you... even if you weren’t a bossy know-it-all.” He stated emphatically. “In fact, I think I’d like you more, if you weren’t such a nag.” He said with a little smile. He reached over and touched Hermione’s hair. It made him happy that at least this, the most Hermione-ish thing, was still alive.

“I’m sorry I let you down Mione,” he admitted. “But I _promise_ that I won’t let anything like this happen to you _again_. I’ll stand up for you and for Harry; no matter what. We’re looking for the answer.” He said cautiously moving forward. “We have a plan. We need to follow the Spider’s!” Ron gave a gulp. “But before that, I... I have a plan...” Then, Ron did the brave thing that he’d wanted to do for a week. Slowly, he bent down and kissed her lips.

They were colder and harder than he remembered – but his lips danced over hers, hoping she’d kiss back, or mutter something. Even if she pushed him away and thought kissing was gross.

Nothing happened.

His heart sank. Honestly, he hadn’t thought anything would happen. He straightened up and, nervously played with her hair again.

He heard Madam Pomfrey coming so snatched his hand away; resting it, once more on her hand closed hand. A little while later, Ron returned to his bed with a renewed resolve to end this mystery even if it means: following the spiders.

* * *

** Two weeks after Petrifaction **

Ron Weasley was frustrated. He’d been helping Harry look for spiders; a ghastly task for someone who didn’t like them. Even after his visit, he missed Hermione. There was no one like her to make him angry, or to calm him down. Potion’s was a nightmare. Sitting next to her empty seat...

Normally in Potion’s, he’d copy Snape’s instructions but not really process what they were saying until he saw Hermione. He wasn’t cheating, it was just how he learnt. He saw the process then replicated it – rather than just read it. Now, the best person in Potion’s was Draco and Ron refused to even look at him... even being in the same room as Draco, who had openly wanted Hermione to be killed by the monster, was hard. Ron just wanted to punch him...

"Sir," asked Malfoy one day, like the git he was. "Sir, why don't you apply for the headmaster's job?" The idea of Snape as Headmaster made Ron feel ill.

 

"Now, now, Malfoy," said Snape, through a thin-lipped smile. "Professor Dumbledore has only been _suspended_ by the governors. I daresay he'll be back with us soon enough." Ron felt oddly reassured by his words. Then, Malfoy continued his quest as a suck-up.

 

"Yeah, right," said Malfoy, smirking. "I expect you'd have Father's vote, sir, if you wanted to apply for the job - I'll tell Father you're the best teacher here, sir -" Ron felt anger rise in him; he turned to Hermione... but she wasn’t there. His heart constricted again. He looked around; Harry was watching Snape whilst Seamus was pretending to throw-up in his cauldron.

 

He was sure that Hermione wouldn’t approve of behaviour like that. But Hermione wasn’t here. She was a waxy statue that he wasn’t allowed to visit in the Hospital Wing. A petrified Hermione, who hadn’t woken up when he’d, kissed her.

 

"I'm quite surprised the _Mudbloods_ haven't all packed their bags by now," Malfoy went on airily, as Snape turned away. Ratboy even looked right at Ron when he said the M-word. Ron clenched his fists suppressing his anger. "Bet you five Galleons the next one dies.” He proposed somewhat boisterously, looking around his Slytherin kin for conformation. Then, he stuck the knife in: “Pity it wasn't _Granger_ -"

 

 _That was it,_ thought Ron leaping out of his seat. _Malfoy was going to get the punch he’d been asking for since the day he was born._ Ron saw his target and charged. Both fist balled: to hell with the consequences. To hell with being kicked out of school! The class was a flurry of activity and Snape seemed remarkably unobservant at that moment. Suddenly, he felt himself being hauled backwards. He struggled against them: because at this moment all there was, was punching the smarmy Slytherin git. Part of him registered that it was Dean and Harry pulling him back and it was for his own good but damn it. He wanted to punch Draco in his foul rat face!

 

"Let me at him," Ron growled through gritted teeth – seething with rage. "I don't care, I don't need my wand, I'm going to kill him with my bare hands -"

 

"Hurry up,” Snape then commanded, “I've got to take you all to Herbology," He was at the front of the cue, sneering. Seamus and Neville had picked up their things. As they marched to their next class; no matter how much Ron struggled and Harry and Dean refused to let him go.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a confession to make. I totally love Joey Richter’s portrayal of Ron Weasley so I took inspiration from the song Sidekick when writing what Ron thought: post Hermione’s petrifaction.


End file.
